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User blog:Nibby the Bird/Chapter 9 EmberClan and FrostClan Collab Fic
oh mY GOD YOU GUYS IT'S FINALLY HERE WARNING SAD STUFF YAY DROPSTAR!!!!!!! It turned out Shadowfoot was near the base of the tree, but his ears were so full of snow he couldn’t hear Dropstar and Goldenshine calling. But soon Goldenshine found the brindled tomcat, who explained the whereabouts of the other warriors. Dropstar helped them climb down, and together the six of them made their way back to camp, shivering, but safe. Needletoe had frantically been trying to sweep branches out of the camp to prevent cats from tripping in the dark. When Dropstar arrived back at the base, coughing and bedraggled, she found him shoving dens across the Elder’s Chamber, trying to make room. The moss nest he was currently kicking over the dirt floor still contained a bored-looking Flakefur, busy picking at the sprigs of grass on the ground and not getting up. Immediately Needletoe let the corner of the nest clenched between his teeth drop to the floor when he saw his clanmates. “Dropstar! Goldenshine!” He kicked another pine branch out of the way. “I’ve been trying to get everybody into the Elder’s den, since its further back,” he panted. “But it’s hard wrangling everybody in here.” He glanced over at the nursery. “And can someone PLEASE get around to moving the queens in here?” “On it,” muttered Rabbitleap, scampering away to the nursery to explain what was going on to Foxtuft, and Glacierstorm, his mate. Dropstar found Creamwing in the apprentices den, gathering more bedding and moss balls the young cats would play with. “You’re back!” she exclaimed with a relieved sigh. “Does anybody need my, uh, help?” “Yeah, actually,” Dropstar told her, guiding her to the quickly crowding elder’s den. “Some of the warriors were up in a tree for a while and are a little cold. I’m worried Needletoe has caught something too.” Creamwing nodded solemnly. “Diseases spread easily when cats are cramped. I can’t get any herbs now, but keep any sick cats on another side of the den—or, I mean, you can keep them in the Prey Room. Yeah yeah, that should help. Keep them out of the nursery, don’t let them sneeze on the fresh-kill—“ “They are adults,” Dropstar interrupted. “We’ll be fine, okay?” She brushed her long tail on Creamwing’s flank. “At this point, the best thing you can do is make sure everybody is warm and separate the sick cats. We can handle the rest.” “Okay,” the medicine cat sighed. “On it.” “Good,” replied Dropstar, fighting to keep relaxed herself. She returned to the elders dem to manage the cats. The wind was howling outside and she could see snow pouring through the stones Needletoe had set up to prevent snow from pouring inside the cave. She instructed some of the Warriors to stay with the queens and the Caretakers to stay with the apprentices and elders. More stones and old dens were arranged in the center hallway to stop the increasing gusts of flurries with the help of a few Caretakers. The apprentices were nervously shaking, the elders were confused, and the warriors could barely move. Needletoe, Snowwhisker, and Shadowfoot, the cats with the worst cold, were sent to the Prey Rook after Dropstar gathered a few frozen pieces of food to put with the queens and apprentices, and nests were shoved together and jostled around so much cats couldn't find their own beds. It was like this for seemingly so long, cycling between the chambers where cats hunkered anxiously, making sure Needletoe wasn't infecting the prey, helping the Caretakers block the skylight in the elders den to prevent more leaks, and so on for Drostar. In any other case, Needletoe would check on the welfare and safety for large clan and Dropstar would protect the cave, but the deputy, although still capable with a runny nose, was a threat with the ability to pass on sickness in the close chambers, and thus was instructed to stay inside. When Dropstar was a young warrior and a similar blizzard overtook the taiga, she heard some elders and queens complaining about the way Dapplestar was able to move around freely throughout the caves while the others were forced into the back. Now, Dropstar realized how being the one in charge, expected to manage every one of the many clan members, was much more stressful than crouching in a corner, protected from the cold. Back and forth, running, panting, shivering…. And then she heard it. “Windpaw! Where is Winpaw?” “Mottleheart?” called Dropstar. She rushes into the elders den, pushing past Mosseye and Dewstripe to find Mottleheart shoving aside moss beds and pine needle structures frantically. “I can't find Windpaw! The poor thing can't hear me, he must be so confused!” A jolt like lightning shot through Dropstar. “Right.” She hurried over to the fretting elder. “Okay. We'll find him, Ma. Don't worry.” Sucking in a deep breath, she plunged back into the parted throng of warriors and elders. “Has anybody seen Windpaw? Small white apprentice, deaf? He can't hear you, remember.” Through the nose she was met with shaking heads and apologies. She tried the Prey Room and nursery, but got the same reaction. She groaned. She and Mottleheart split up and searched the corners and divers of every room and nest, tossing aside warriors, and even pushing away the boulders blocking the main hallway of the Ice Ridge, just to be sure. Other cats tried their paws at the search themselves, but the aged Mottleheart had already flung herself into every hiding spot imaginable before any other caught on as to what was happening. If anything happened to the apprentice, she knew Mottleheart would never forgive her. Twice, she gave the old she cat a half hearted “You should go back to your nest,” but knew nothing could convince her mother to sit back down until Windpaw was at her side again. After several minutes of searching, they still could not see Windpaw anywhere. Although she knew it was useless, Dropstar called put his name, hoping he would notice, or it would at least attract attention. But nothing happened. She was getting the same sinking feeling when she could not find her warriors. But now, it was a helpless, deaf apprentice. “He must be outside,” stated Mottleheart suddenly. “No, no no,” Dropstar started. “You are not fit to go out there, not in this weather.” she tried to steer her mother away from the boulder doorstop. “And neither is Windpaw. Doesn’t mean he isn’t.” She broke free and padded down the main hall again. “We are going to find him, and that’s that. I wouldn’t be able to live knowing something happened to him and it was my fault.” Dropstar watched her, exasperated. Mottleheart was stubborn and definitely would go looking for him, no matter how much she pleaded. She cared about the little apprentice more than any other cat. “What if I go out there and promise to bring him back?” Dropstar pleaded. A million horrible thoughts tumbled through her brain. “No offense, daughter, but I don’t trust you,” replied Mottleheart frankly. “Come on. We are looking for him, no questions asked.” She began to attempt to move the rocks. “Ma--” Dropstar replied. “Dear, I was an explorer and scout when I was a warrior and my sister was the last Clan Leader. I can find him. I know I can.” Her voice started to sound choked up, and Dropstar realized she had no choice. With that, the clan leader was pulling aside the boulders, stepping out into the clearing in search of Windpaw, Mottleheart at her side. They ran through the forests, again combing over any spot where the poor tom might hide, mide climb or bury under to keep warm. The winds alone were enough to knock the tom straight off his heels, but the cold and deep snow would not be kind to a small cat like Windpaw. Dropstar was in pain and losing hope, but Mottleheart insisted on trekking through the forest, for the first time in moons, to see the apprentice again. Nothing was spoken between the mother and daughter--only fierce silence and the howling winds. Dropstar couldn’t even see the peak of Mount Curling Tail, the home of EmberClan, with the snow and fog in the way. And then it happened. A gust of wind so fierce snow cascaded form the trees toppled over onto the she cats struck the forest, sweeping away anything in its path. Dropstar screamed as she plummeted to the blankets ground, muffled by the blizzard. Cold, cold seeped through her fur, a chilling dampness attacking her heart, and for a second she couldn’t breath through the thick snow clogging her muzzle, which was plunged into the ground. But, she managed to drag herself upright to her feet, and clamping her claws into a tree root to steady herself. As her thoughts returned to her, panic began spreading through her veins like venom. “Mottleheart!” she screamed, straining her voice. “Mottleheart!” No response. She surveyed the area, but felt her heart miss a beat as the she cat was lost to the swirling white winds. “Mottleheart! Mother! MOTHER!” Tears were pooling in her eyes now. She leaped down onto the snow, trudging through it. But it was too deep now, too deep to continue, not when she was so tired and cold already. “Ma! Where are you!” She dropped her head. She never should have let her mother come out here. Why didn’t she try harder to convince her to stay? She was a clan leader! What had she done? What would Falconflight say? And what about Windpaw? You can’t find them on your own, a voice whispered. You’re hopeless now. All fate is in StarClan’s paws. Dropstar took a deep breath, choking back the sobs. Misery coloring her every picture, she began the trudge back to the Ice Ridge to bear the news. When there, Needletoe immediately settled her on a seperate nest. He and Creamwing were one of the few cats awake still. Dropstar,'' ''her head foggy, closed her eyes and tried to forget and hold on to hope as she dozed off in her nest. Needletoe and creamwing seemed to be quietly conversing on one side of her. She could barely listen. We will find her, she thought, just as she faded into sleep. We will save them. Category:Blog posts Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)